


Something Real

by MissMouse43



Series: Season 15 Codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Coda, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Hair Washing, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Soft Boys, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, taking care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMouse43/pseuds/MissMouse43
Summary: Sam was here. Cas was here. They were okay, mostly. As long as Dean had them both there was a chance. For now, that was enough.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Season 15 Codas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619068
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	Something Real

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like my soul has left my body but I finally finished writing something! Lack of inspiration is such a bitch guys. Pardon any mistakes! I was rushing to get this up >_<
> 
> ANYWAYS
> 
> That prayer scene was more than I ever hoped for. I genuinely did not expect to hear the words 'I'm Sorry' come out of Dean Winchester's mouth. So instead of trying to add onto (imo) an already perfect scene, I decided to write this mess instead :P
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not owning Supernatural

The thing was Dean knew they had failed today. Not being able to kill their unforgiving God or even trap him—Chuck had painted the boys into a corner. Dean didn’t blame Sam for what happened. He believed his brother, believed that whatever Chuck showed him scared him shitless about their future if something were to happen to God himself. So Dean told his little brother they’d find another way. There had to be something they could do. There was always another way. Now more than ever Dean was willing to fight for their future, for a better world. They would beat Chuck (whatever that meant now) Dean was certain. Today was another set back. Another door of opportunity slammed in their face.

And yet... Dean felt like he won.

As far as self-improvement goes, in some small but no less significant way Dean had opened up about himself to his best friend with a vulnerability he never thought he could share. It took being faced with the reality of losing Cas before he could fix what he had broken between them for Dean’s walls to finally break down.

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to pray his emotions overwhelmed him. The anger he had been feeling for days about Mary, and Chuck, and _everything_ was a viscous and unrelenting reminder of one of the things Dean hated most about himself. He built up resentment towards the angel because the alternative meant proving what Dean feared most. That he was a coward in the worst possible way, blaming others when he couldn’t cope, and worst of all that he didn’t deserve to be loved by someone who had always loved him so _good_.

Dean knew he had a lot to make up for. He was willing to spend the rest of his life telling Cas how sorry he was if it meant the angel could trust him again. Trust what they have together means something, despite Chuck trying to poison Dean’s mind into thinking otherwise. A not so secret part of Dean was relieved that Chuck had stopped their plan. As long as Cas didn’t have the Mark, as long as he didn’t have to sacrifice himself _again_ for the greater good, for the Winchesters, Dean could deal. Even if their situation was still looking pretty bleak at the moment, and it would be so easy to roll over and let the weight of their defeat consume him...

Sam was here. Cas was here. They were okay, mostly. As long as Dean had them both there was a chance. For now, that was enough.

The three of them sat in the kitchen talking and drinking on and off for an hour while Sam explained what Chuck showed him. Dean noticed Castiel’s shoulders tense up every now and then when Sam shared a particularly upsetting ending to their story, most noticeable when Claire died or the Winchesters became monsters themselves and turned on their friends. Dean was all too aware that most of Chuck’s “big finishes” left Castiel either dead or crazy and locked in a box.

It was ironic Dean thought cynically, that Castiel’s importance to God’s overall story was a complete contrast to Dean’s _own_ story, the one he was finally starting to believe that he wrote himself no matter what Chuck says. God could pound sand. Cas was necessary, plain and simple. Dean would never call Castiel’s place in their lives into question again.

To show Cas he could lean on the hunter like he used to, show him he was there, Dean consciously made a choice to press their knees together under the table for support. If Dean was being honest with himself (which he was getting better at, evidently) he was just as disturbed to hear all of this as Cas. He needed that anchor of physical connection to keep him grounded. When Dean felt pressure push back against his leg, he knew Cas understood and accepted the gesture wholeheartedly.

It was a little after midnight when Sam finally went to his room. Dean was still worried about his mental state, didn’t want him to go off on his own and brood while feeling so hopeless, but in the end Dean had to let him go for both their sakes. If Sam wanted to be alone to process everything that happened then Dean would let him. He deserved a break. They all did. Tomorrow was a new day. Besides, Dean had some unfinished business of his own to take care of. Business that was currently staring at him waiting for some form of guidance to their next move.

Dean took a breath to steady himself and grabbed the angel’s hand, pulling Cas up from the table as he stood. Castiel went willingly, linking their fingers together as Dean pulled him down the hall towards his bedroom, but made a pivot in a different direction when he was struck with an idea. Dean ended up taking them to one of the bunkers biggest bathrooms claiming he was desperately in need of a shower to wash the stink of purgatory off his skin.

Dean didn’t outright suggest Cas join him, figuring leading him here was already a heavily implied invitation, and Dean was damn near giddy when the corner of Castiel’s mouth lifted into a pleased smile. “You get a head start,” Cas told him still smiling, “I’ll be right back.”

Dean nodded once and watched him go before he went about grabbing towels and setting the water to an appropriate temperature. Dean stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the open shower, sighing contently as the hot spray rained down over him. Dean closed his eyes and let the water run down his face, internally battling with himself to not let his mind wander. He wanted to enjoy this moment of peace before his heart was inevitably cracked open again by those damn baby blue eyes his angel knew how to use so well.

Dean knew the damage between them couldn't be so easily mended this time. He said some really awful things to Cas in the heat of the moment, things he could never fully take back no matter how hard he tried. Dean wasn’t sure where they stood; if Cas still wanted him in the same way. Sure, Cas heard his prayer, but that didn’t mean he was ready to forgive Dean yet, or even willing. That’s why the hunter took it as a good sign when he heard the bathroom door open and close again as footsteps echoed off the tiled floor. Cas came back. He _always_ came back. Maybe it was time Dean started putting a little faith in that.

Dean kept his back to the angel while Cas shuffled around the room behind him. Neither one of them spoke as Dean could make out the sound of clothes being removed and a belt unbuckling. He tried not to let his nerves and bubbling excitement get the best of him when Castiel finally walked up behind him, the weight of his presence sending pulsing static up and down Dean’s spine.

The minimal space between them was charged with potential like how it used to be before. Dean knew Cas felt it too. Something familiar. Something comfortable. Another good sign. Not wanting to hog the water, Dean stepped aside and took the opportunity to properly look at him.

Cas had his eyes closed as he stepped into the spray, much like Dean a few minutes ago, he appeared to be savouring every single moment of the peace and quiet. Tufts of brown hair flattened over his forehead as he soaked his head, making him look excessively adorable to Dean who had to fight the urge not to reach out and brush them back with his fingers. Not yet, anyway. Castiel looked relaxed. It was a significant moment in Dean’s mind, one worthy of remembrance. Seeing this look on his face was so rare these days. Dean would take whatever he could get.

He let Cas get his fill until the angel quietly opened his eyes again, and suddenly Dean was on full display, no less of an emotional time bomb than he was in Purgatory. Dean knew there were a million different things he should be saying right now— _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, can you forgive me, I’m still broken, I need you, I love you, I love you, I love you_ _so freaking much—_ but every time he got close to actually saying it the words got caught in his throat. So Dean went back to his default settings and relied on his preferred method of intimacy to make Castiel understand.

Physical touch.

Dean started off slow with a bar of soap in one hand and lathered the suds over the angel’s shoulders, concentrating way too hard on being overly cautious just in case Cas pushed him away or told him to stop. He didn’t. Dean worked his way down Castiel’s biceps and lower arms, reveling in the feeling of strong muscles under his finger tips. Dean felt the angel’s eyes on him as he worked and it made Dean nervous enough to speed up the process a bit and move directly to his broad chest and flat tummy.

The muscles in Castiel’s stomach jumped as Dean lathered and massaged the skin. He felt the angel release a deep breath, and when Dean chanced a look up at his face he realized Cas had closed his eyes again. He was enjoying this, and that gave Dean the confidence to slowly turn Cas around and start the same process again down his back and around his hips.

Dean would hardly call himself a gentle person, but he tried to be right now for Cas, as if he could wash away all the bad blood between them with a simple bar of Irish Spring. It could never be that easy, but if this is what it felt like to cherish someone then Dean was all in. He could do that much. Dean guided Cas back under the water and helped rinse the soap off his body before reaching out for the bottle of shampoo and squirting a generous amount into his cupped hand.

Cas now stood fully lax in front of him as Dean slid his fingers through the wet strands of his hair and massaged the shampoo into his scalp. It felt nice taking care of him in a way only Dean could. It showed Dean that Cas still trusted him in some shape or form. Maybe they stood a chance after all.

Dean once again moved Cas back and rinsed his hair out, taking a moment of selfish indulgence to watch as the suds slowly washed down his lean back, over the curve of his ass and down around his thighs. It was hard for Dean not to make this into something else when Cas looked so damn irresistible; the urge to drop to his knees and suck the angel off certainly an appealing thought right about now. But _that_ wasn’t _this_ , and it wouldn’t be unless Cas gave him the go-ahead. Dean knew who was really in charge here, and he was more than happy to hand over the reigns and let the chips fall where they may.

Once Dean was finished he was pleasantly surprised to find that Cas wanted to return the favour. And so Dean took his turn being pampered, Cas following the same pattern as Dean taking great care in washing his body and massaging the underlining tension out of his muscles before washing his hair. Dean’s eyes naturally slipped closed, and he realized this is what falling in love felt like. Ah, who was he kidding? That ship sailed a long time ago. Taking care of each other in such a tender manner—it was unlike anything Dean had ever experienced before. This...

This felt like forever.

Castiel angled Dean’s head back under the spray and rinsed out his hair, taking extra precautions to avoid getting any soap into his eyes while he worked. Once he was finished the angel pressed a kiss against Dean’s neck, right below his Adam's apple, and Dean was in such a state of bliss he nearly dropped to the damn floor. “Dean,” Cas called him softly, and Dean knew this was the moment he had been waiting for. It was all or nothing.

Dean slowly opened his eyes, wavering green meeting endless blue. “I forgive you,” Cas said.

For a wild second Dean thought he imagined it. “You do?” he asked, sounding so terribly hopeful.

“Of course I do.”

Dean’s lips parted on a shaky exhale and then Castiel was kissing him. Now that the flood gates were open there was no stopping it. Dean cupped the angel’s jaw and kissed him back as fervently and passionately as he could, needing Cas closer to him, always closer. Castiel did the same and held on just as tightly, neither one of them willing to let go until oxygen became a necessity. It stole Dean’s breath away, and when they parted Dean wondered what the hell he had done right to be gifted with someone like Cas in his life. But he still had to be sure.

Taking a moment to steady himself, Dean asked in a whisper, “Are we okay?” If he tried to get anything else out right now Dean was 99.9% sure he wouldn’t be able to make it through without crying again. One breakdown a day was his limit, thank you very much.

Castiel bumped their foreheads together, his eyes sliding shut as he made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “I think there’s a lot we need to work through,” he said instead of answering Dean’s question, and Dean… kinda hated that answer. He hated it because he was mostly to blame for putting them in that position.

“I’m such an idiot. Always fucking up what’s most important to me.”

Castiel levelled him with a mirthful look. “I said we didn’t I?”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Dean, and Castiel gazed at him fondly, sharing a chuckle of his own. It had been awhile since they laughed together. At this point they were completely intertwined with each other. Dean had his arms wrapped tightly around Castiel’s shoulders, while the angel’s arms looped around Dean’s waist. The skin on skin contact made it difficult for Dean to remember why he was supposed to be holding back. Too much too soon was not what he was going for here.

Staying like this was dangerous Dean told himself, and with that in mind he kissed Castiel briefly on the lips once more before turning around with the intention of shutting off the water. But before he could reach the handle Castiel’s large, warm hands slid around to his back and pressed him against the shower wall chest first. Cas pushed up against him from behind and Dean couldn’t stop the muffled pleased noise from escaping his lips when the firm line of the angel’s cock rocked over the swell of Dean’s ass. It was nice to know Dean wasn’t the only one getting hot and bothered. If that didn’t qualify as the green light Dean was waiting for then nothing would.

Cas must have been impatient enough not to want to take Dean to bed, and that was just fine with the hunter. He didn’t think he could wait for that either. Dean reached over to the shower rack and grabbed the travel size bottle of lube hidden behind the conditioner, because yeah, Cas had the right idea and Dean was already sporting a semi from their kiss. He could have this.

Dean passed the bottle back and spread his legs as the cap popped open and a slick finger eased its way into his tight hole. Castiel took his time opening Dean up with deep, practised twists of his finger, eventually slipping in a second and then a third when Dean started to rock back on his hand. Castiel extended his chin over Dean’s shoulder and whispered into his ear in a low, tantalizing voice. “I want you slow.”

The hunter licked his lips and nodded, a blush creeping its way up his neck and pinking his ears. That suited Dean just fine. He wanted the angel slow, fast, hard, soft and anything in between. It had been awhile since Dean let himself feel wanted, so if Cas was game Dean would agree to just about anything. Pleased by Dean’s eagerness, Castiel slowly removed his fingers, making Dean’s now fully erect cock twitch with anticipation of what he knew was coming next.

When Cas finally pushed into him to Dean it felt like coming home. Sure, for the most part they sucked at communicating, but this was something they _both_ excelled at. Cas because sometimes he didn’t quite understand what he was feeling or how to properly express himself (You couldn’t hold it against him, it was an angel thing) And Dean because he always knew _exactly_ what he wanted to say but he was too much of an emotionally stunted coward to actually say it until it was almost too late. This was their happy medium.

Castiel hooked his arms underneath Dean’s and held onto his shoulders, lining up their bodies perfectly chest to back, without an inch of space between them. True to his word the angel rocked into him slow and steady, ever so often adjusting his hips searching for Dean’s sweet spot. When Dean suddenly gasped and tightened around him, Castiel focused all his attention on creating long, agonizing drags against Dean’s prostate, making the hunter’s toes curl and back arch to take him deeper.

Castiel was letting out quiet little breaths into the skin just behind Dean’s ear, whispering nonsensically about how good Dean felt, how much Cas loved being with him. How much he missed Dean.

It didn’t take long for Dean’s moans to grow in volume as the pressure continued to build and build until he was openly panting with his cheek pressed against the wall. The pace Castiel set was at a deliciously torturous speed but Dean was starting to get desperate, needing something more to push him over the edge.

Kisses were pressed into his shoulders and at the base of his neck as Dean reached down and started stroking himself with quick tugs of his hand. Dean could hear Castiel coming unhinged behind him, breathing heavier with the strain of trying to hold back. He wanted to take Dean thoroughly apart, piece by piece. He wanted Dean to remember.

The loud _shaaaaa_ coming from the shower head barely drowned out Dean's strangled moan as he came in his own hand, shuddering and gasping as Castiel gently fucked him through it. Maybe it was the high of getting off or simply the fact that Cas was being so sweet to him, that Dean felt the hot sting of tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

It felt so good getting back to this. Shit, maybe it was time Dean put an official name to _this_. After all this time maybe they’d earned that. Hell, Dean would even go as far to say they deserved it. Labels were something Dean always tried to avoid, especially where Cas was concerned. Once it was out there, what he actually wanted, Dean could never take it back. His words forever set in stone. He didn’t want to screw that up. Not now, not ever.

Castiel fell apart moments after, his hips stuttering as he pressed into Dean fully, letting out a throaty groan between the hunter’s shoulder blades. They stayed like that for awhile, still connected, both catching their breath. Dean was the first to move, reaching a hand up to drag across his face and hide the stray tear rolling down his cheek. This wasn’t like his prayer. This wasn’t fear, guilt and regret. This was relief. They were happy tears.

Cas helped wash them both one last time before Dean shut off the water and stepped over to the towel rack. His fingers were starting to prune. The two of them took their time drying each other before Cas went over to the counter by the sink and picked something up, offering it to Dean with an outstretched hand.

It was Dean’s favourite dead guy robe. That must have been what Cas left the room to get earlier. Dean’s face split into a grin while Castiel slipped into a robe of his own and the two of them left the bathroom, hand in hand, on their way to Dean’s bedroom. Dean considered throwing on a pair of boxers before getting into bed just in case Sam came knocking in the early hours of the morning, but ultimately decided he’d much rather go commando instead.

The two of them slid under the covers together and settled in for the night, Dean on his right side and Cas snuggled up behind him. With the light turned out the room became shrouded in darkness, a comforting sort of quiet blanketed around them.

“We’ll be okay,” Cas promised, and Dean believed him, because now he knew exactly what to call them.

Real. They were real.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope to get back to writing regularly soon!
> 
> As always Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated :)


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